


Rancid

by orphan_account



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 3
Genre: Dominance, Established Relationship, F/M, Hair-pulling, Hate Sex, Rough Sex, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-14
Updated: 2015-07-14
Packaged: 2018-04-09 06:41:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4337858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jericho fucks his baby doll senseless in a shed outside Megaton.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rancid

"Hey baby doll."

Thao adjusted her pack, ignoring Jericho's catcalls. It was part of their game-she played haughty, he brought her down.

"Baby doll, I'm talkin' to you."

"Megaton's another three miles east," she said. "If we hurry, we'll make it before it gets dark."

Jericho came up behind her, caught her by the shoulders. He forced her to turn around. She avoided his eyes, staring resolutely at his chest. "Baby doll," he growled, "I said, 'I'm talkin' to you."

"What do you want?" she snapped, jerking out of his hold.

"I like your ass, baby." He grabbed her and pulled her against him. He kissed her, forcing his tongue into her mouth while he groped her ass. His breath was rancid, stale cigarettes and skunky booze. He kissed her like he intended to eat her whole, swallowing her grunts and gasps as she tried to free herself from him.

She clawed at his thick forearm, trying to loosen his hold. He laughed against her mouth, and one of his roving hands traveled up her back to her scalp. He wound a hand through her hair and tugged, breaking the seal between their mouths and drawing a cry from her lips.

"Go fuck yourself," she gasped, and he laughed again. He pulled her hair hard enough to bring tears to her eyes. Suddenly, he released her, sending her staggering backwards.

"Next shelter we come to," he said, "your ass is mine." He slapped her ass, then shoved her forward along the road. "Giddyup, baby doll."

15 minutes later, they came across the grey skeleton of an old-world house. The wood was rotted and bare, but the shed, made of corrugated steel, was still standing. Someone, a raider or a pilgrim of the Atom or a merchant, had laid a mattress down, made the shed into a shelter. 

As soon as she reached the shed, Thao dropped her pack. Jericho came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her neck with uncharacteristic tenderness. She shuddered at his touch, heat pooling in her abdomen. She ground back against him, hoping to spur him into motion.

He ignored her wordless request, running his hands up and down her body, squeezing her breasts, then cupping her groin. He buried his face in her neck, inhaling her scent (which was near as bad as his breath, it had been days since either of them had bathed).

"You wet?" he whispered.

Thao screwed her eyes shut, and nodded.

"Speak up, baby doll."

"Yes," she whispered.

"What?"

Her cheeks burned with shame, even as his touch inflamed her arousal. "I'm wet," she said.

He snorted, and shoved her into the shed. "Whore." He backed her up against the wall, pinning her hands over her head and kissing her, drowning her in his tobacco-sweat-booze scent. She fought his hold even as she writhed against him, pressing her hips against his.

She caught his lower lip between her teeth, biting until she tasted blood. He sprang back from him, releasing her hands. She shoved him, breathing hard.

He staggered back, his hand going to his mouth. He was bleeding profusely, blood running down his chin and dripping into his beard. She smirked in self-satisfaction, and opened her mouth to speak.

She meant to say "I said, 'go fuck yourself,'" but he slapped her across the face, hard enough to stop her talking and make her mind go blank.

"Strip," he ordered. "Now."

He stood back and watched as she undid the buckles and straps that held her armor in place, shucking the stiff leather and letting it fall to the floor. She hadn't worn a bra or panties that day, only an undershirt, and when her pants fell away, the sudden gust of cool air on her flushed thighs made her nipples rise in sharp peaks beneath her camisole.

She stood defiant in front of him, naked except for the undershirt, shivering in the chilly autumn air. His eyes roved up and down her body, taking in the dark thatch of hair between her legs and the gentle swell of her small breasts. She shook her long hair out of its ribbon, and it fell loose around her shoulders, framing her face.

The way he looked at her was possessive and sensual and barbaric, and it made her mouth go dry in anticipation.

"Turn around," he growled, and she complied. "Now get down on your hands and knees."

He sat down as she moved. Once they were both settled on the mattress, he pulled her across his lap, rubbing her ass and thighs. He wound one hand through her inky hair, holding her in place, and spanked her with the other.

"Count for me, baby doll."

He brought his hand down on her ass hard enough to propel her forward, tugging her back into place by her hair. With every blow, he recounted her offenses.

"That's for biting," he growled.

_Smack._

"One." Her eyes filled with tears, and she squirmed beneath his hold, trying to sate the pressure building up in her loins.

"That's for leading me on all day."

_Smack._

"Two."

"That's for flirting with that vampire fuck in Meresti."

_Smack._

"Three."

"That's for being a little bitch."

_Smack._

"Four." She was starting to loose track of the numbers, and her arousal was starting to become painful.

"That's for teasing me."

_Smack._

She tried to say, "five," but words broke into a whimper. Her ass was sore and she could feel a headache building from the hair pulling. She was crying, from the pain and from lust. She could feel blood from his split lip dripping onto her back, pooling in the hollow just above her ass.

"That's for sucking cock."

_Smack._

He didn't pause long enough to give her a chance to speak.

"That's for being a slut."

_Smack._

_Smack._

_Smack._

He was out of grievances, but continued to lay into her ass. She found her voice, and begged him to fuck her, but he ignored her.

_Smack._

_Smack._

_Smack._

_Smack._

Until he abruptly pushed her off his lap. She rolled onto the mattress, ass in the air, her breasts tumbling out of her undershirt. She rolled onto her back, and watched Jericho fumble with his belt buckle.

The tip of his dick was glistening with precome. He crawled over to her and shoved it in her so abruptly that she didn't have time to beg him for it. He started thrusting, his movements rough and uneven. She screwed her eyes shut and beat her fist against the wall, biting her lip to keep from crying out.

He had a nice, thick cock, but he wasn't hitting her clit. She shifted her hips beneath him, hoping a minute adjustment in angle would afford her some relief, but he held her still with his massive hands and fucked her relentlessly.

It was good, but it wasn't enough. Her hands were pinned beneath her thighs, but she worked one free and began to pleasure herself as his thrusts grew more erratic. Sweat beaded on her forehead and dripped down her breasts as she frantically worked at herself, desperate to come before he did. 

She was beginning to cramp up, hurtling towards climax, when he finished. He came on her thigh, and his semen dripped down her leg and onto the filthy mattress. With a frustrated cry, she let herself go, toes curling, muscles clenching, body shaking from her orgasm.

When she was through, she lay still, panting. Her cunt and ass were wonderfully sore. The remaining two and a half miles to Megaton would be an ordeal of bruised flesh and sensitive skin. She cursed herself for not wearing underwear;her rough leather armor would chafe her oversensitive thighs and pussy as she walked.

"Baby girl." His voice was hoarse.

She ignored him.

"Baby girl, I'm talking to you."

Without opening her eyes, she said, "What?"

"I need your undershirt. I gotta clean myself off." She cracked one eye and peered up at him. He was kneeling over her, softening dick in his hand. "And I didn't get to look at your tittes at all," he pouted.

Gingerly, she sat up, stripped off her undershirt, and tossed it to him. He ogled her chest as he wiped their juices from his cock. "You got some nice titties," he said.

He wiped his spunk off her thigh, then kissed her, gently this time.

His breath was rancid. His breath tasted like stale cigarettes and skunky booze, and she kissed him back.


End file.
